I gratefully accept the tray from Taryn and grunt my thanks once again at Douchebag Magee before I make my way to Athena like a T-rex is chasing me for my dick waffle. Silly T-rex. Everyone knows I never share my dick waffles.
“We’re leaving.” The long strap of my purse slips over the curve of my shoulder and slides down my arm, making the bag land on the floor at my feet with a heavy thud like it’s punctuating my sentence. With the tray balanced in both hands, I can’t pick it up yet, so I shift my toes toward it like my foot can communicate my irritation that it fell. My bangs are in my eyes, and my skin is on fire.
I feel his gaze on my body, probing, curious, amused.
Athena sits back in her chair and tosses me a smirk. “You’re holding plates. Are we stealing plates? I don’t think Taryn would let us back if we steal her shit.”
I groan. She’s right. Taryn did me dirty. She always gives us paper cups so we can eat and run, but today? Today she’s given us the oversized, not at all portable mugs. Dammit. The pink-haired cupid is way off the mark with her arrow this morning. I want to take the sharp-ended weapon and shove it up Justin’s ass.
I place the tray onto the table with slightly too much force, and push my bangs out of my irritated eyeballs.
After a long sip of her coffee, Athena jerks her chin at what I assume is Justin still standing at the counter behind me. “Wanna talk about that?”
I’d rather sever my own carotid artery and watch myself bleed to death on the floor of the coffee shop. I pick up my chocolate-covered dick waffle and lick off the white chocolate jizz at the top before taking a huge bite and pointing to my mouth as if to say, “can’t talk, eating.”
“Found out anything about your birth parents yet?”
My girl is persistent, I’ll give her that.
I point to my mouth again.
Chewing very studiously, I pull out my phone and open the local classifieds. I’ve searched every single day over the summer for a job. I want a job. Ineeda job. I needsomethingto do outside of school, not only for the cash, but so I can avoid going back home to Minnesota as much as possible, to my parents—my adoptive parents. Something that gives me a legitimate reason to ignore my phone when their name flashes on the screen. Something to distract me from the hurricane of feelings tearing up my mind.
I shift in my seat and swear I can feel the pressure of his stare against my back. Something must show on my face because Hen raises an eyebrow.
“It’s okay. We’ve all had crushes on hockey players before.” She pats my hand, condescension and knowing hanging in the air between us. I wonder who she’s talking about having had a crush on. She hates hockey. Having brothers living and breathing the sport turned her off it long ago—or so she says. Maybe there’s another reason she won’t step into the rink to watch a game. That’s a thread that’ll need to be pulled on in the future.
She picks up her lady lips pastry and drags her tongue across the seam before making moaning sexy sex noises at its deliciousness. She’s tongue fucking the slit right there in front of me, in front of everyone.
“People are staring.” I’m convinced the dude at Athena’s three o’clock is going to come in his pants if she doesn’t stop putting on a show.
She teases where the clit would be—if it werereallady lips—with the tip of her tongue, and the dude groans. Her smirk only grows.
“I don’t have a crush on anyone.” I take another bite of my dick before my high school self claws out of the box in my chest and spills the ancient history tea to my best friend.
Some things need to remain in the past, and Justin-fucking-Ass is one of them.
CHAPTER2
Savannah
(14 YEARS OLD)
School sucks.
I had such high hopes for my new school, but it turns out that my second week of high school is destined to go no better than the first.
It’s day nine, and no one has said a single word to me yet—other than my teachers, but they kinda have to talk to me.
Not one freakin’ word.
I mean, to be fair I haven’t spoken to anyone either, but that’s beside the point. Mom said teenage girls never shut up and it would be super easy to make friends, but it doesn’t feel easy.
The weight of my loneliness presses down on my shoulders as I take a seat at an empty table in the cafeteria. It’ll get better, right?
It has to get better.
I spent the last year of middle school excited about starting high school. I’ve been preparing all summer.
